A Night of Consolations
by Lady Shaye
Summary: Tag to 1.10 "Vital Signs." Elizabeth and Neal have a moment when he stays the night at the Burke home.


A/N: Okay, I am on a storm of uploads. I finally got my flashdrive into a computer and I wrote this like a year ago when I first got into White Collar, but that doesn't matter because I just need to _upload_ something and feel satisfied with myself.

Spoilers: Up to 1.10 "Vital Signs."

Description: The aftermath of Neal being drugged. Yes, yes, I know it's been done before and it's not that great. I'm sorry. :( But I'm in a hurry and I never edited it.

Um...yeah.

* * *

She'll always lament the fact that she never got to see that security tape.

Even though she pretended that she was mad over the whole Dr. Magic Hands thing, most of the time she was just watching over Neal. He's like their little kid—mischievous and troublesome, but also adorable and with good intentions.

Peter dragged him in early that night, explaining to her that Neal couldn't be let alone in his state. Elizabeth's first sight of Neal that night was him hanging on Peter's shoulder, half walking and half being dragged, singing some opera love song about two lovers on a hill. He had a beautiful voice. She'd always loved opera. She felt some sympathetic maternal instinct kick in, immediately pulling them both inside and putting Neal to bed…uh, couch.

He asked for scotch and she adamantly refused, saying she wanted him sober as soon as possible. He looked strangely saddened by that before she remembered that scotch had been the drink he'd shared with Kate. She didn't remember where she'd learned that little tidbit—probably from Peter. He started singing some tragic opera love song. Peter looked at Neal and told him to go to sleep before the former went upstairs. El followed.

"Sweetie, I wanna stay with him tonight," she said.

"El—"

"Honey. He's alone, drugged, and miserable. I can take out two-thirds of that. I'll sit with him and try to make him smile. C'mon, I mean, from what I can see, he's still afraid that he's going back to prison. And hon, you're not so good with the whole comfort thing."

Peter sighed. "Tell him I said he's not going back there. And be gentle with him, okay?"

"Thank you, Dr. Magic Hands!" She bounced out of their bedroom, ignoring his complaint against the nickname on the other side of the door once she shut it. She headed downstairs, ignoring Neal's confused and slightly loopy-looking eyes on her as she passed the living room and went to the kitchen. She pulled out the tea. She knew he wouldn't admit it, but he liked her tea.

She sat down on the couch next to his feet. He was so much smaller, so much frailer than Peter, wirier than muscled, and she knew that for all he pretended, he felt frail a _lot_ of the time. He gave her a weak smile, sat up halfway, and thanked her for the hot tea before taking a long, deep sip. His head rested on the armrest and he watched her quietly as she flipped through the TV channels. He asked her to stop at _The Bourne Supremacy_ and she did, wishing he hadn't picked this movie. Peter hated these movies because he always said that the government would _never_ do a thing like that and a loyal agent would _never _go rogue that badly. Peter always saw things black and white. But slowly, he was beginning to see things differently. Neal was changing him. Neal was making him see the faint gray area more and more clearly every defining day.

Besides, Neal liked these movies. Or, so he said.

But then, Marie got shot in the head and Neal's eyes dropped as his smile disappeared. "What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"I miss Kate," he admitted. Must've been the drugs. He was never open like that with anyone, not even her or Peter. She knew that for a fact. "Sometimes, it's almost like she'd dead. I'm not sure I could ever recover from that, though. I'm one of those true-love-blahity-blah romantics, whether or not I show it. I used to think she was the One. Now…I just want to see her again."

Well…she couldn't say she completely understood. Her fear was not that Peter wasn't the One—she knew he was—but that one day, he wouldn't come home. She sat up and the movie went to commercial. "I love Peter," she said. "He's my world. But Neal, you brought color to that world. You made him see things a little differently. You're still changing him. And I have faith in you. If anyone can find the One, it's you."

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Two lovers on a hill," he began singing softly in his low, opera-worthy voice. His voice truly, really was beautiful. "Peter's strong," he abandoned his song for a confusing comment. "He's a lot stronger than I am. All the time. Sometimes I hate it."

"What do you mean, honey?" She knew he didn't mean physically. Strength was not Neal's forte, and she knew for a fact that he didn't mind it all that much. What he lacked in muscle he more than made up for in devious brilliance. He really _was_ brilliant.

"He's not afraid to love anybody. That takes strength." He looked down, as though he was ashamed.

"Neal, sweetie…you love people."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Doesn't mean anything unless they love you back."

She was struck by the sincerity in this stone, and the deep, transparent depression in his voice. He'd thought about this a lot. "Neal," she said gently, "of course it means something. Love is love, whether it's reciprocated or not. But you don't have to worry about that, sweetie. Mozzie loves you. Kate loves you. June loves you. I love you. Peter loves you. There are people that care about you, Neal. You aren't alone in this. Don't you dare to ever think like that again, okay? And you _are_ strong, Neal. You are one of the strongest people I know."

Biting his lip but looking mostly convinced, Neal nodded.

"Neal, I know you're worried about Kate. But love has a way of making sure things turn out the way they're meant to be. You can believe in fate or not, but it happens. I believe that. If you're meant to be with Kate, it will happen. The universe has its ways. And if not…then you really _will_ find the One. I promise you," she promised. "These things are difficult, Neal, but not impossible."

He smiled, and nodded again, looking more like he believed it. The movie came back from commercials, and they were content to just sit there. Sometime later, he looked up at her. "El? Thank you. For believing for me."

She knew it was the drugs. But at the moment, that didn't matter.

* * *

A/N: So..._definitely_ not my best work. But I'm working on more _White Collar_ stuff, believe me. SInce I'm rewatching Season 3, there's likely to be a lot more Neal/Sara going on. There's one in the works to be a sequel for "No Judgment," and I'm even working on an AU story, probably a multichap. Of course, I'm working on like a million other things and things will really get hectic for me soon - well, even more hectic that right now, which is hard to imagine and makes me want to just _collapse_ - so. Don't expect it all up any time soon. It'll probably be in short bursts.

So...review? *hopeful*


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